Four Seasons
by Chocolates.Are.The.Best
Summary: ...a perfect description of her whole life.


**Four seasons…**

**…a perfect description of her whole life. {dedicated to Imaginar, have a /lovely/ day, darling!}**

* * *

_Spring – floral and soft colors._

The chirping of birds and the sweetness of the green grass filled the air with a lovely dose of nature. A young looking woman knelt down, holding an adorable little toddler in her arms. The little toddler wore a cute and cheeky smile on her face, as she stood unsteadily on the grassy meadow. She wore a floral patterned white dress, her black hair tied up to a ponytail, accessorized with a gorgeous white flower clip. She walked wobbly, giggling as the grass tickles against her tiny, chubby legs.

"Mama, look! Look at this pwetty fla'wah! Look! It matches with my dress!" she exclaimed, mispronouncing some of the words. She held up a pale pink flower, sniffing it curiously.

The young woman turned around, gazing tenderly at her little daughter. "Yes, Natalie, it is really gorgeous. Be careful, darling. Don't get your pretty dress dirty – it costs a lot."

"Yes, I won't get it dirty. Mama?"

"Yes, darling?"

"Can I keep the fla' wah?"

The young woman laughed at the little girl's mispronunciation. "Flo-wer, Natalie. Say it with me, flo-wer."

"Fla-wah. Can I keep it, mama?"

The woman sighed. She will have to work on her daughter's pronounciation later on. "Of course, dear. Come over here."

The little toddler obediently walked towards her mother. The mother took the flower from her daughter's hand. She took her original white flower clip, and placed the pale pink flower beneath her daughter's ear. It matched her perfectly. The young woman produced a mirror out of her purse, and showed it to the little girl.

"Pe-fect. I look pwetty. Do you think I'm pwetty, mama?" she looked up at her mother, with her big, black orbs.

"Absolutely." The young woman whispered, touching the pale pink flower on her daughter's head.

The toddler's face broke into a huge grin. She twirled unsteadily, with her little chubby hand grasping on to her mother's.

"Come on, darling. Let's go. When we get home, we shall press the flower, saving it as a memory of this gorgeous day."

"Yes, mama. Let's go now."

How naïve the girl was, thinking the world was so happy and cheery. Little did she know all would change in just a matter of time.

* * *

_Summer – tribal print, bold colors._

The bright sun shone brightly in the sky, and the sea glittered underneath the sunlight. A young girl kicked the sand lightly. An older boy with strikingly handsome features stood beside her. The girl was about eight years old. She wore a bright colored sun dress, with tribal patterns and geometric shapes on it. The boy wore tribal patterned shorts, with a windbreaker on.

"Ian, why do you have to wear a windbreaker?" the girl asked with a look of disgust. "No one wears windbreaker under this heat."

"I don't want anybody to see me wearing the cheap clothing. That tank top… it's COTTON! Cotton, I tell you! That's cheap!"

"I suppose you do have a point here."

"Of course I do. I always do. Now remind me why are we here?"

"We're here because I need seashells for my art project at school, Ian!" the little girl said impatiently.

"And why am I here?"

"To help me find seashells."

The boy let out an exasperate sigh. He wrinkled his nose as he bent down and started looking for seashells. Who knows why he's willing to help his sister.

The little girl started looking for them too. She, unlike her brother, didn't wrinkled her nose in disgust. She was excited for this art project. It's her first project at school, and she's trying to do her best. She crouched down, and started looking closely for seashells. Not long, she found tons. Huge ones, small ones, brown ones, white ones…

"Look at this, Ian! This is so pretty – it's peach pink with swirly patterns on it!"

"Good grief. Why do you enjoy it so much? I know I hate it. Look at the disgusting sand! It's making my pants dirty."

"How about this one? It's white with faint chocolate brown patterns on it. This one is huge with white swirlies on. Ian, how could you not enjoy the fun of finding seashells?"

"Maybe because there are horrid peasants scattered across the beach and the sand is ruining my pants."

"It is definitely not that bad. It can be fun! At least, I enjoyed it."

"You'd better not let mum hear about this. Kabras deserves the best, they certainly do not enjoy staying with peasants and picking up filthy cheap seashells."

"But—"

"No butts. They are for sitting on."

The little girl pouted.

She enjoyed picking the seashells. She thought they were pretty – much better than those jewels that her mother likes so much, in her opinion. The seashells were different in each way, each having their own unique size and pattern. The little girl absolutely adored them. She planned to put some on her bed side table, adding to the collection of pressed flowers, just so she can remember this extraordinary experience. She didn't mind much about staying with peasants, surprisingly; the seashells reminded her of people – different in their own ways, unique in their own ways.

Yes, they are. Different, in some ways; but alike, in some. Good and evil is just divided by a line. Once you cross it, it's hard to go back.

* * *

_Autumn, textures, along with darker colors_

The young girl posed in front of the camera. Her black, fair hair shone, and her face wore a definite smirk.

"Perfect, Miss. Kabra! Perfect!"

The young girl tilted her chin higher, as she posed another angle. She was in the middle of a photo shoot for Cover Girl magazine. They were shooting for an Autumn theme, and dark red and orange leaves were scattered around the young girl. She was about ten or eleven years old, but her face wore a smirk that made people immediately back away.

She, was dazzling. Her hair laid perfectly behind her back, and she was wearing a beautiful dress. It was dark turquoise, and it matched her perfectly. She wore it with confidence as the photographer took photos of her.

"Miss Kabra! Miss Kabra!" An urgent voice suddenly called out. The young girl turned her head, raising an eyebrow. Her face was full of distaste and annoyance as her hired make-up artist held up a cellphone. She knew who it was from, and she certainly didn't want to answer it.

The dense photographer didn't notice a thing. He urged the young girl to quickly answer her phone call, while she just shot him a death glare. He didn't notice.

As the girl reluctantly picked up the phone, a sharp voice yelled into her ear.

"Young lady! You're supposed to be meeting me at the mansion for your Cahill lessons!"

The girl sighed. "Yes, mum. I'm just taking a photo shoot. Can't the Cahill lessons wait a little longer? It was you that told me to do the photo shoot!"

"Are you saying that your precious little pictures matter more than your family bloodline?"

"No, mothe—"

"Don't give me excuses! Now, come to the mansion! I'm waiting!"

The young girl sighed. She didn't understand what a big deal Cahills were. Her mother seemed to be making a big fuss out of nothing. And it seems like her family is falling apart because of it. She didn't want her family to fall apart. She hastily told the photographer that she had to leave, and she changed out of her clothes. The young girl felt helpless. She really wanted to continue her photo shoot; but her mother won't change her mind.

The photographer stopped her. He gave her a leaf, a dark, mystical red one. She looked up to him, saying a thank you and stalked out of the place.

The young girl placed the leaf on her bedside table, along with a pale pink flower and some seashells. She had mixed feelings about her life. What happened to the nice woman that picked flowers and played with her in the meadow? What happened to the nice brother that reluctantly stayed back to pick seashells, just to accompany his sister? What's going on with her family? What's the deal with Cahills? Is it really that important? Can she go back to her peaceful and blissful life without the Cahills? Can she?

* * *

_Winter, animal fur, dark, grayish colors_

The young girl stood there, panting. She gazed at the scene in front her. It all reminded her about the clue hunt. It had reminded her of it all too well.

The clue hunt was an experience she'd never forget. The clue hunt – it destroyed her family. It left her and her brother, together, becoming orphans, abandoned by their own mother and father. It had hurt her deeply. She could feel her family dying, drifting apart from each other. What's left is just an empty shell of the Kabra family. An empty, broken shell.

Just like an animal. When it dies, what's left is its skin. Its soul and body drifts away, dying. Everyone, everything is dying, the girl thought darkly.

Yes, it is quite true. All the fighting had left both Cahills and Vespers dying mentally. They may be alive, but it's only just an empty shell. Their souls have been numb from all the horrid, terrible crimes. They seem alive and energetic on the outside, but it's all just an act. The truth? They were all tired and weary from fighting on the inside, but they don't have strength to fight back, nor do they wish to. There was no hope. They're all dying and falling apart.

The battered young girl scanned around the room. Cahills and Vespers, fighting against each other. How ironic it is, that both are actually quite the same. Both would kill to reach what they want to achieve. Yet, they're fighting so viciously against each other. I should end this, the young girl thought. I should end this, once and for all.

She picked up a metal pole lying around, and she stared at the Doomsday device. It was what caused everything in the first place. If it weren't for it, Cahills and Vespers won't have to fight. Her rage grew as she thought more about it. With all her might, she hit the doomsday device.

"Natalie, no!"

She heard the faint voice of her brother, but it was no use. Her life flashed across her amber eyes. The sweet smell of the flowers when she was little, the pressed, gorgeous pale pink flower beside her bed; the funny memory of her brother and her picking seashells, the beautifully patterned seashells on her bedside table; the horrid clue hunt, her parents, her brother… Everything flashed passed. Good, evil, happy, sad… Everything went pass in a flash.

As she took her last breathe, she looked at her brother's desperate and sad face. He seemed so lost and sad. The young girl closed her eyes.

_Maybe there's hope after all._


End file.
